


the dress

by brecht



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Episode Tag, Episode s03e02: Juno Steel and the Man in Glass, Formalwear, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21689956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brecht/pseuds/brecht
Summary: “I’ve been thinking about you ever since I put this damn thing on,” Juno confesses with his lips against Nureyev’s. “Been waiting for you to take it off me all night.”
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 121





	the dress

**Author's Note:**

> This fic exclusively uses female terms for Juno’s genitalia; please don’t read if that’s going to make you uncomfortable for any reason.

After all the apologies and honesty and hard conversations, after they’ve spent uncountable minutes digging into the mess they’ve mutually made of their relationship, once they finally excavate the simple, buried truth that they both want each other more than anything else in this entire shimmering galaxy,

Juno is, impossibly, still wearing the dress. 

“I’ve been thinking about you ever since I put this damn thing on,” he confesses with his lips against Nureyev’s. “Been waiting for you to take it off me all night.” 

Nureyev runs his fingers down the flimsy shoulder straps to Juno’s chest then back up to cradle his head and hold him still for a kiss deep enough to properly take his breath away. 

“I had a slightly different idea, if the lady is amenable,” he says. 

Juno laughs lightly. “I could be persuaded. And call me Juno.”

“Juno,” Nureyev repeats immediately and can’t help but kiss him again, more softly this time before turning his head to leave a trail of lipstick prints through Juno’s stubble, across his cheek. 

They’ve barely started and Juno already looks thoroughly debauched. His face and chest are flushed, and his makeup sweat-smeared from their earlier high-speed exit from the dance.

Nureyev wants to bottle this up, to keep him exactly like this forever, and at the same time he wants to see how much further the ex-detective can be unraveled, wants to carefully pull him apart piece by piece until he’s utterly strung out. 

Not that Nureyev exactly has the patience for that right now, after the night they’ve already had.

 ~~File it away.~~

Juno hauls him back into a kiss and melts into it, loops his arms languidly over Nureyev’s shoulders and lets himself be manipulated towards the center of the bed. Nureyev barely has to push to make him collapse onto his back. 

Juno spreads his legs without being directed, framing either side of Nureyev with those break-neck heels. Nureyev delicately wraps his fingers around one of Juno’s ankles, lifts it up to press his lips against the soft curve of bone there before setting it on his shoulder and trailing his mouth up Juno’s calf, over his knee, along the inside of his thigh, pushing the endless layers of skirt up as he goes. He makes a careful internal note of every place where his warm touch makes Juno’s breath hitch. 

Next time he’ll do this with the reverence it deserves. 

But this time

This time Nureyev doesn’t tease or explore, he just moves from the soft meat of Juno’s thigh directly to the slick place between his legs, presses his open mouth over his underwear and kisses wetly at the fabric. He runs his tongue messily around the general area of Juno’s clit, salivating without restraint. Above him, Juno laughs shakily again, and then swears when Nureyev slides the panties aside and presses his mouth against his cunt properly. Juno’s already wet, practically dripping, and Nureyev licks the salty slickness up with broad strokes of his tongue. 

This taste, this smell is what he hadn’t been able to get out of his head after their last night together, and it’s every bit as addicting as he remembers. He nuzzles his face in deeper against Juno’s short curls and breaths it in before finally sliding his tongue deep into Juno and licking hungrily as his walls. 

Juno curls his fists in the extravagant folds of his skirt, the movement pulling enough to shift where the endless fabric is pooled around Nureyev’s shoulders. He glances up, but from this angle he can’t see Juno’s face past the dress. 

He refocuses on what’s in front of him, shifting his weight to wrap one of his arms around Juno’s leg and tug him the slightest bit closer, then bringing his mouth back down to his opening. He dips in tongue between Juno’s labia shortly, then move up and wraps his lips over his clit. Juno’s thigh muscles tighten under his grip and he swears again. 

“Ah, f-fuck, Nureyev,” he pants, “that’s–fuck.”

“Good?” Nureyev checks shortly, only because he can’t see Juno’s expression. 

“Very,” Juno confirms, which is all the urging Nureyev needs to dive back in. 


End file.
